Indebted to the Mafia King

EleniI scoot out of the way of Mr. and Mrs. Behrakis as they leave after their usual Wednesday lunch. Both members of the elderly couple smile at me, and I head for their table to pick up their usual generous tip. I haven’t told Mama or Baba about the virginity auction. I know they’d stop me, but I want to contribute to this family too.The bell over the door tinkles, and I turn. My breath catches. The man stepping inside looks like something out of a movie. His warm, tanned skin stretches taut over sharp cheekbones and a square jaw. His black suit is crisp and perfectly tailored over an equally black shirt and tie. The only element of him that doesn’t seem like it was mathematically designed for perfection is his curly hair, which tumbles just a little bit into his night-dark eyes. He looks around as if trying to find something, and his gaze lands on me. His smile is soft and a little cocky, exposing perfect white teeth. Without a word, he sits at the counter attached to the front w

EleniI push the hangers holding my every-day clothes to the side and stare at the few special-occasion dresses I’ve accumulated over the years. I can’t wear my prom dress. The long, glittering baby-pink dress with the lacy sleeves seemed perfect when I picked it out, but I’d stick out like a sore thumb on the ferry. I don’t really want to wear my birthday dress. It stops at my knees, so I might be able to hide it under a long coat, but I picked out the yellow polka-dotted dress because it looked so cheerful, and I don’t want to think of this virginity auction every time we go out to dinner for Mama’s, Baba’s, or my birthday. That leaves me with my funeral dress. I pull the black sheath from the closet and hold it up to my body. It is sleeveless, with just wide straps holding it up, and the skirt doesn’t flare nearly as much as my birthday dress. Every time I wear it to a funeral, I get a little nervous that people might think it’s too sexy because of the fitted top.Perfect.I slide

EleniI slip out of the front door of Piacere without looking at the stage, where the auction is still going on, or the line of people outside. People—men—from both groups jeer at me, but I ignore them. The envelope of money weighs down the inside pocket of my jacket. Fifty thousand dollars. I hurry through the streets. I have to get home before Baba and Mama wake. The last thing I want is to worry them.Only when I’m already on the ferry back to the city proper do I think about Dante. My face heats. I threw myself at him, and he basically refused. I bite my lower lip, still tingling from the heat and pressure of his kiss. I really thought he wanted me. Stupid. Men like him only ever want me for my body, but I could tell he wanted someone with more to them than that. He just didn’t see more in me.Tears bead in my eyes, and I shake my head. Sure, I sold more to Dante than I ever wanted to, but I have the money. Mama can stop cleaning up Baba’s blood, at least. When I arrive home, I l

EleniI blink awake and discover someone removed the bag from my head. I lie on a scratchy couch in what looks like someone’s wood-paneled basement, still wearing my sweatshirt and nightgown. A single lightbulb battles against the dark, but it barely reaches the walls. I suck in a breath, and the musty scent of underground combines with just a hint of the metallic stench I remember from the apartment.The apartment. Where I left Baba dead. Mama isn’t here, so at least they haven’t caught her yet. Or they killed her too. Tears fill my eyes, and I lift a hand to swipe them away.Both of my hands move, accompanied by the sharp bite of plastic. I look down. Someone zip-tied my wrists together. And my ankles.

EleniI stare blankly out the window of the sports car Dante poured me into, watching the city whip by. If Dante wanted to kill me, he would have by now, right? He wouldn’t bother taking me to a secondary location. My body would blend in with the others covering the floor of the auto shop he whisked me out of. Anyway, he was right. He bought me at the auction. I belong to him. I knew I should never have left without paying my debts.The gory images I saw on our way out whisk through my mind. The scent of blood teases my nostrils. I know I should feel bad about what I did to Frank, but when I think about the blood, I can only think about Baba, his pained scream. And I can’t really think about any of it. So, I stare out the window.We pause at